Chapter 289

Olivia

The full moon painted the night sky with a silvery hue, its glow softening the rugged landscape surrounding our home.

Beneath the night sky, shadows shifted and played on the ground, dancing to a silent tune. The air was thick with the scent of pine and blooming night jasmine, a smell that never failed to calm me.

Off in the distance, I could make out the distinct sounds of our pack rebuilding itself; people clamoring, talking, laughing, playing music. Somehow, despite everything, people always pulled through. It was fascinating to me.

Nathan and I sat on our porch, swathed in a silence that was both comfortable and tense. The evening celebrated the victory over Ryan and the Elders, a victory hard-earned and one that should’ve brought nothing but relief.

It had been two days since the fight ended—our villa was cleaned up, mostly restored to its former glory aside from a broken door and some shattered windows—and things felt almost normal again.

And yet, my heart raced, weighed down by a secret.

Nathan broke the silence first, taking a long sip of his drink. “It’s over, Liv. Finally.” His voice was filled with a weariness that only someone who had seen too many battles could understand. “No more hiding, no more constantly looking over our shoulders.”

I managed a weak smile, wrapping my hands around my own glass. The liquid inside shone golden, reflecting the sparse candlelight from our porch.

“It’s hard to believe,” I replied, feeling the words stick in my throat. “But the pack is safe, and our children can grow up without fear.”

Nathan leaned back, the old wooden chair creaking under his weight. “I keep thinking of the first time we finally saw each other after a decade apart. That was something. The way you looked at me, like I was an intruder. Now look at us.”

I laughed softly. “You were an intruder,” I said. “It was my house. And to think that you were going to live here with Layla.”

With a chuckle, Nathan shook his head. “You’re right, as always. But it worked out, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it did. It always does.” I let out a soft sigh, thinking about my deal with the witch. Would that work out, too?”

He reached out, intertwining his fingers with mine. “Always,” he echoed.

As the night deepened, the nocturnal sounds of the forest became more pronounced.

Owls hooted in the distance, and the occasional rustle indicated a creature moving stealthily through the underbrush. I reveled in these sounds, always finding solace in nature. But that night, they felt haunting, serving as a reminder of my unspoken truth.

“Something’s on your mind,” Nathan observed. His voice held no accusation, just a gentle nudge. “You’ve been distant since we left the mines. And not for the obvious reasons.”

I hesitated. “It’s just... memories. Shadows from the past.” I bit my lip, regretting the half-truth. I so desperately wanted to tell him everything but feared the ramifications.

“Olivia, I know you,” he said gently. “And I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

I looked down, tracing the grain of the wooden table with my fingertip. How could I put into words the weight of my decision without divulging the details?

The wind picked up slightly, sending ripples across the curtains and rustling the leaves. A few dried ones were swept onto the porch, their crackling noise breaking the heaviness of our conversation.

We continued to sit, the gap between us feeling wider than ever. I glanced up at him, meeting his concerned blue eyes.

“Those mines were just… mind-altering, that’s all,” I said, thinking back on the visage of my ‘father’ and the witch’s cruel trick. “It was scary in there.”

He stared back, silent for a long moment. “Is this about your dad?”

I blinked, startled. “Why would you think that?”

He sighed. “I saw you, Liv. When we were leaving. You looked... troubled. Like you’d just seen a ghost. And I know that those mines are chock full of ghost stories.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I could still picture my dad’s face, hear his voice. It was sickening that the witch was so capable of tricking me into thinking that she was him, that he wasn’t actually dead and that he had been hiding in the mines all along.

“It wasn’t like that,” I finally said.

“Then what was it like?” He leaned forward, his eyes searching mine.

The weight of the secret was becoming unbearable. I stood up abruptly, the sudden movement causing my chair to scrape noisily against the floor.

“I need some air,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

The path from our porch led to a little clearing where a swing hung from an old oak tree. I often came here to think, to find solace in nature’s embrace. That night, the moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground. I sat down on the swing, my thoughts tumultuous.

A few minutes later, I felt Nathan’s presence before I saw him. He stood at the edge of the clearing, hands buried deep in his pockets.

“We promised,” he began, his voice husky, “to never keep secrets from each other.”

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. “Some truths are too heavy to share.”

He approached slowly, taking a seat next to me on the swing. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Just like we always have.”

“I hope so,” was all I could muster.

We sat in silence for a while, the rhythmic creaking of the swing the only sound. Eventually, Nathan spoke again, “Olivia, I need you to trust me. No matter what’s bothering you.”

I nodded, tears glistening in my eyes. “I know. It’s just... complicated.”

As the night wore on, the atmosphere grew chillier. Yet, neither of us made a move to go inside. Eventually, weariness took over, and I stood up. “I should check on the twins,” I murmured.

I walked back to the house with Nathan following closely behind. As we entered, the soft glow from the hallway light guided me to the nursery. Pushing the door open gently, I peered inside. The sight of our twins, bundled up and sleeping peacefully, brought a fresh wave of guilt.

Making my way over to Aurora, I leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, then traced my finger along her cheek. Would I really be able to protect her from the witch? Would I be able to stop this? And most importantly, would my family resent me when they eventually found out?

I wasn’t sure exactly how long I stood there, looking down at her tiny face. She looked so peaceful, but all I could see was the vision that the witch had shown me: Aurora, grown up, using her witchcraft to create pain and misery.

I couldn’t let that happen. She had such a special connection with nature, and to imagine her using it for her own gain… I didn’t want to think about it.

However, it wasn’t long before Nathan’s voice, firm yet gentle, broke my reverie.

“I know you’re not telling me everything. What really happened in the mines?”